Give Up
by Rumpelstiltskin und Vladimir
Summary: Take the timer. Take the knowledge. Take the experiences, the adventure, the heroics. Take the lost time and everything I've learned. -story written by Rumpy, no Vlad interference whatsoever


**This was written on a whim at two in the morning. I had watched Sliders all day and was thinking about everything Quinn went through and how it must have affected him, and how they never really addressed it. I also was thinking about all the parallels between Quinn Mallory and Sam Beckett from Quantum Leap. Sam is often left with nothing to connect him to his life, save Al, who can't even comfort him much because he's just a hologram. That often leaves Sam screaming at the sky, having a one-sided argument with God or Fate or Time or whatever is leaping him around in time. I couldn't get this out of my mind, and I'll warn you it is a bit sad. **

**-Rumpy**

******Disclaimer- I do not own Sliders or it's characters. They belong to Fox/Scy Fy/ Tormé**

* * *

_Quinn Mallory felt like his mind was shattering into a million pieces._

Quinn lay on his back, gaze glued to the stars stretched out above him. He tried to recall his father's voice, his comforting words of how everybody was made of stardust. For some reason, those words felt empty and childish.

It wasn't even his real father, he reminded himself. His adoptive mother had told him how she had raised him for her doubles, and hid him when his real parents returned. He had a brother, too. He, Remmy, and Maggie had been sliding from world to world, trying to find this long lost Mallory. It seemed, every time they turned around, they were facing more eye-eating Kromaggs or were once again in the right place at the right time to help change some world for the better.

_Quinn Mallory felt so alone. Nowhere to turn, back against the wall, nothing left._

They were having trouble with the timer last slide. Responsibility to fix it fell square on his shoulders. Remmy did his best to help, of course. Brought Quinn whatever he needed. But he didn't understand any of it. Quinn was the only one who actually knew anything about how it works now. Maggie's knowledge gleaned from her husband was very little and very basic.

At least the Professor had been able to help him.

The thought of the late Englishman stirred bitterness and anger in Quinn. The young genius rolled into his side, grass tickling his face, and pushed himself up. Why did that man have to kill Arturo? The question sounded naive even to Quinn as it passed through his head, but he couldn't help but want to scream it at the sky.

And it's not like he could talk to anyone about how he felt. He didn't want to burden Remmy. The Cryin' Man had been through enough in the Kromagg prison. Maggie wouldn't understand. She hadn't known the Professor for more than a few day, and was obviously confused by Rem and Quinn's devotion to the man's memory. She would never get it. Arturo was like a father to Quinn.

Wade would have understood. Wade would have been there for him right now, would have cried with him and told him that the Professor was proud of him.

But Wade was gone too.

He didn't know whether to mourn her or vow to save her because he didn't know if she was alive or dead. He just knew that without her, there was a gaping emptiness in his chest.

Quinn stood abruptly, eyes scanning the expansive field the three Sliders were sleeping in. There were nothing but tall grasses as far as the eye could see, except for a sudden jutting up of tall, grey boulders far, far away from where Maggie and Rembrandt lay sleeping.

A brisk wind whipped across his face, forcing him to finally acknowledge the streaks of water streaming down his face.

_Quinn Mallory couldn't stop the tears. It wasn't fair._

It was so strange. Sometimes it felt as if he was on autopilot. He had been sliding so long now, some things just came naturally, like always triple checking to make sure you had the timer with you. Likewise, sometimes he got the impression certain things would happen regardless of the decisions he made. He was always in the right place at the right time or wrong place at the wrong time in order to do some good. Sometimes, regardless of how hard he tried, he couldn't save someone or right something. Like, something- Fate or Space or God or something- had a set goal for him that superseded what he wanted. The Powers that Be, if you will.

_Quinn Mallory was tired of it. No more. He was giving up._

Quinn had started towards the boulders in the distance, slowly at first. However, his pace had gradually increased until he was in a full frantic sprint, and he collapses to his knees feet from the cold grey stone.

"I'm not doing it anymore! You hear me? I'm done!"

The stars winked back silently at his skyward cries.

_Quinn Mallory had nothing left._

"You've taken everything from me! First my dad, then you took me away from my home! Why wasn't that enough? Then you had to take another father from me! And take away my home for good, and the woman I loved!" The Slider screamed his anger at the cosmos, demanding answers from whatever higher power had been sliding him around the multiverse to right wrongs... even though he knew it would do no good. "I've done so much! And for what?" A brother he never even knew he had? Never even laid eyes on? "I have nothing left! I'm through! I'm done! It's over!"

_Take the timer. Take the knowledge. Take the experiences, the adventure, the heroics. Take the lost time and everything I've learned._

"I just want everything back! It wasn't worth it! It was my fault and I'm sorry!"

Throat raw, Quinn dropped his head to his knees and tangled his fingers into his dark hair, rocking slightly.

"Q-Ball?" Rembrandt's voiced startled him suddenly from behind.

Quinn didn't react when the singer placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. A few moments passed in silence disturbed only by the wind before the younger man could muster enough strength to look up. "How much did you..." he trailed off, not looking the dark man in the face.

"Plenty," Remmy replied simply, nothing but sympathy in his voice.

Quinn's chest felt tight and he didn't want to speak anymore, but guilt forced him to. "I- I can't do this alone anymore, Rem."

"I loved them just as much as you did," Remmy reminded, but there was only sadness in his voice, no reprimand. "I've lost just as much as you. Quinn, there is no 'alone' until I'm dead, you got that?"

Quinn nodded. Remmy gave him a satisfied, reassuring pat on the shoulder and sat down next to him. The Cryin' Man didn't try to make him say anymore, so a long time passed in comfortable silence between them. Quinn's gaze was on the stars again.

"My dad once told me that at the beginning of time, everything that exists now was created from stardust. And, when we die, one day the process will start over and we will become a part of the stars ourselves. Everyone will be stars together. But what about if we aren't in the same universe?"

"Something had to create the multiverse, right Q-Ball?" Rembrandt responded.

"Yeah, I would think so."

"Then everything, and everybody, in every world, must have come from that. Whatever that was, we all came from the same thing so we will all go back."

"Remmy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for giving me something back."

"Welcome. What was it?"

"Feeling connected."


End file.
